


Family History

by Rubynye



Category: Lord of the Rings - Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-14
Updated: 2010-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-06 07:07:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pippin assists his granddaughter in a search for knowledge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family History

Family History  
Author: Ruby Nye  
Rating: G  
Characters: Thain Peregrin, Appleblossom Took  
Summary: Pippin assists his granddaughter in a search for knowledge.

 

Thain Peregrin I walked into the library of Great Smials, looked up, and gasped. Then, in a gesture anyone who had known him for the last eighty years would recognize, he stuffed a fist into his mouth to stifle his laughter. As quietly as he might, he crept closer, watching his quarry clamber higher, quite unaware of being observed. The library was a round, high-ceilinged room, the walls covered with shelving, and Thain Pippin made his way to the base of the History section, pitched his voice carefully (not so loud as to startle, but loud enough to be clearly heard), and called, "Appleblossom Took!"

It was Pippette's turn to gasp, as she clutched the shelf above her and looked down. "Grandda?"

"Pippette, what are you doing up there? And don't tell me you won't fall." She shut her mouth again. "Stay right where you are, and I'll fetch a ladder and come to you." He looked down to hide a smile; when Farry and Goldi had named their first child for Pippin, had they thought that being a girl would prevent her from taking after him? Goldi should have known better. Farry, too, knowing his mother.

"Hold on with both hands!" he called as he moved the ladder over; Pippette huffed. "I could hang from this with one foot, upside down!" she cheerfully retorted, and Pippin couldn't help thinking, _that's my lass_, as he bit his lip to keep from grinning. "I'm sure of it," he replied, "so sure that you don't have to show me." Reaching his granddaughter, Pippin wrapped an arm around her waist, and she obediently wrapped her limbs around him though she protested, "Grandda, I could have climbed the rest of the way."

"You ought to have used the ladder, Pippette" he replied as sternly as he might; Pippette's hazel eyes sparkled mischief, but she nodded. "If you'd fallen, you'd have been badly hurt, and your Mum and Da and Grandmum and Granduncle Merry and Grandaunty Stel and Uncle Theo and all your Gamgee aunts and uncles would have been so very upset."

"What about you?" Pippette asked. Pippin opened his eyes as wide as they'd go, a bit harder these days for the crinkles round them but all the more dramatic, and said, "I'd be the upsettest of all, to see my Pippette hurt." He emphasized his words with a squeeze.

"All right, then," said Pippette magnanimously. "I will use the ladder, Grandda. It just seemed so much fun to climb."

"I know, climbing is fun, but it can be dangerous. Use the ladder. What were you after?"

"A history-book of Gondor," she said, pointing. She'd nearly reached them, too, and Pippin's heart clenched at the sight, as he wondered how she could have gotten safely back down with one of the heavy books. Carefully not thinking on it, keeping his voice light, he said, "Ah, but why not one of the ones lower?"

"Because I wanted one of the big ones, that came all the way from Minas Tirith, one with a tale of you in it," she replied implacably. "I wanted to read about how you saved the Steward's son and killed a great troll."

"It sounds as if you know the story by heart already." Pippin's arm was beginning to ache. He wasn't so young, he reminded himself, and he was holding her with the arm that had been dislocated by that very troll. "Let's climb down, and I'll tell it to you again."

Pippette shook her head stubbornly; Pippin blamed her stubbornness on Sam, because he could. "No, Grandda, I needed a _book_. I needed to show Berry---" She shut her mouth, flushing white as her namesake flower and then red as her grandmother's, and Pippin could have laughed, knowing he had only himself to blame for her habit of intemperate blurting. "Down," he said, "you can tell me on the ground."

Pippette was still brightly blushing by the time Pippin set her on her feet; a little shyly she confessed, "Berry and Davy, they said I was telling tales, that you killed an orc, not a troll. I wanted to show them I'm telling the truth, show them how brave my Grandda Pippin is!"

Pippette clenched her fists at her sides in determination; Pippin smiled at his fierce little granddaughter, and rubbed his aching shoulder, and thought of the long-ago battle before the Black Gates, at the changing of the world. "It didn't take any more courage to kill a troll as an orc," he told her. _And precious little I had, just terror and resolve and a strange elation, and at the end the freedom of nothing._ "But yes, I killed a troll. See this scar at the base of my hand? My sword turned in my hand when it fell on me."

Pippette's eyes grew round as saucers, and Pippin caught himself, not wanting to frighten her. "And see, I can wiggle my fingers, and what's that in your ear?" He plucked a candied rose petal from her ear (well, really, from his sleeve-pocket), and grinned when she squealed. "Oh! Thank you, Grandda!"

"You're welcome, my lass." Pippin stroked down her curls, as wild and abundant as Goldi's, as she ate the sweetmeat and smiled ear to ear. "Now, stay here, and I'll fetch you a book of Gondor's history, but I want you to stay in the library to read it." She nodded. "I must return to my work, but after supper, if you eat all your greens, I'll read you any tale you like."

"A tale?" Pippette did a little dance of excitement. "Read me a tale of Grandda Sam and Frodo of the Nine Fingers, then, Grandda? I want one of my granddas to read to me about the other."

Pippin looked at his granddaughter, fresh-faced and alive and with a sharp Took nose, and thought of how Frodo had read tales to little lasses and a little lad with sharp Took noses, so long ago. "I promise, my Pippette, I will. Now, let me fetch you that book."


End file.
